Well Behaved Women Seldom Make Good Wives
by Velvet Nights and Satin Skies
Summary: Middle Earth is at peace, and Legolas wants to show its beauty to Amy. But she's still longing for home, and Legolas is at his wits end trying to make her love him. Meanwhile, Haldir and Sam are fighting their own battles - literally. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1: Of Years and Beginnings

**Title: **_Well Behaved Women Seldom Make Good Wives_

**Rating: **_**T – **for action, scenes of romantic sensuality, and mild language. _

**Written by: **_Naneth Bear_

**Summary: **Middle Earth is at peace, and Legolas wants to show Amy the beauty of Middle Earth. But still, she wishes for home, and Legolas doesn't know how to make her love him. Meanwhile, Sam and Haldir are fighting their own battles – literally.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Two Years<strong>

It was a hard, bright morning, full of glazed summer sunlight, and the workers were toiling hard. Most of the men were shirtless, their upper torsos bathed in sweat, long hair drawn away from their faces, and their wives glanced at them admiringly as they did the washing. The community washing place was rived just outside of the city, near to the last piece of broken wall, and the women were gathered in the scanty shade provided by the newly erected walls. Talk and laughter burst in a bubbling, rapid layer over the grinding, scraping noises of the workplace nearby. Men were levering thick boulders into pulleys and lifts as they rebuilt the last bit of wall which had been destroyed during the Second War of the Ring. Still other men chiseled the edges from boulders, creating uniform stones in rectangular shapes, and the cloudy dust from this activity hung in the air.

Deeper into the city, houses were being rebuilt – roofs repaired, walls straightened, doors replaced. The city was alive and bustling with activity, busy workers polishing the city of Minas Tirith back to its original shining glory. Against the stream rocks, women slapped tunics and leggings in the frigid water, scrubbing them into a lather with soaps and oils. Other women were hanging them out to dry in the heat, while children played busily beneath the hanging sheets and clothing. In the center of all this activity was a young woman, her brown hair pulled back in a loose braid away from her angular face. A pair of hooded brown eyes sparked with excitement as she worked steadily, legs planted firmly as she hoisted a boulder in the air, yanking hard on a corded rope. Unlike the other women, she wore nothing but a pair of leggings and dirty breast bindings, which would be shockingly indecent garb had she not been working in such a state every day for the past year.

When the stone had been received by the other men perched precariously on ladders, she dusted her hands off and flashed a quick, feral smile of satisfaction. With a delighted gaze at the work around her, she settled her hands on her hips and allowed herself a rare moment of rest. Gimli and the other Dwarves had finished repairing the gates, steeling them with the stronger, harder mithril, and the city was lush and cool from the trees the Elves had planted. The streets were being realigned, making the city faster, better, more efficient – and it was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen. The walls and castle nearly glowed in the strong sun above them, and her sharp Elvish ears picked up the gentle murmur of running water, as nearby pools and waterfalls flowed seamlessly together. It was a city she had helped build, a city she had helped restore. Like a wildfire cleansing a wood, the siege of Orcs and Uruks had helped make the city even more beautiful than before. The White Tree of Gondor, the dead spiny branches twisted and gnarled, had been given a reverent resting place among the kings of old, and a new sapling had been placed in the Court of Fountains. This seedling was small but sturdy, and already laden heavily with delicately sculpted blossoms.

"Hey! Sam!"

Sam turned, amused, as her best friend came tripping down the road. For two years, the women had been getting adjusted to their Elvish reflexes and senses, which was an extreme challenge in itself. The initial pain from changing races had faded, but Amy still frightened herself with the bizarrely quick reflexes she had – recently, she had been in complete awe after Sam had rescued a fallen glass before it spilled a drop of liquid. Still, Amy was not normally clumsy, and she didn't visit the worksite often. Being smaller, quieter, and less physically able than Sam, she preferred to work in the House of Healing, tending to injuries and doing mundane chores. Any one of the chores Amy did every day would have bored Sam to tears; she preferred it out here, with the men, where a slipup or mistake could cost someone their life. The work was risky and grueling, and Sam kept thinking how much more could be accomplished if they had just _one_ backhoe or forklift or bulldozer. Amy threaded her way around the chunks of stone and the workers, and when she was within hearing range, she beckoned Sam over. "C'mon, Sam, quick!" She said, and Sam saw there was an eager smile on her friend's face. That in itself was a rare sight – Amy seldom smiled these days. The past two years had been hard on the both of them, both of them sleeping fitfully and trying to adapt to their new lives.

"What is it?" Sam called, following her friend through the worksite and away from the noise. "What's going on?"

Amy turned, and Sam saw that achingly familiar brightness in Amy's eyes, a glow which hadn't been seen in what seemed like forever. "We're going!" Amy squealed, hugging herself. "Aragorn said now that the city is mostly built and the crops are being resown, we should go on our trip before winter sets in!"

"Awesome," Sam said, looking behind her at the mostly repaired wall. "We have been working hard – is Gimli going?"

"Yup," Amy grinned. "It's going to be us, Legolas, Gimli, and a few Elves who want to travel back to Lothlorien. I came here to get you – Legolas wants to plan our route around Middle Earth."

"Cool," Sam said, and something in her belly twisted pleasantly when she thought of going to Lothlorien. "When are we going?"

Amy shrugged. "Depends on when we can get everything ready. But Legolas thinks by the end of the week."

* * *

><p>Two years.<p>

He had waited two years, rebuilding, restructuring, and trying to help Aragorn return Gondor to the proper glory. Two years, he had patiently waited for the right moment – he couldn't go running off on a quest of his own when Middle Earth was still crippled. And now, with high summer approaching, the perfect time to travel was fast arriving, and he was ready to leave. Arwen and Aragorn were more than happy here in Gondor, and the walls of Minas Tirith were finally being rebuilt. The Elves were leaving for the Gray Havens, and the race of Men were slowly but surely healing themselves from the savaging Sauron had given them. Two years wasn't enough to fully erase the scars of the land – burnt fields still lay wasted, ashy dust covering once fertile ground, and entire villages had been crumbled to ruins. Long scraping marks were still left in the mighty forests, where ancient trees had been felled, and the land was still diseased with the scourge of Orcs and Wargs.

And the people were still grieving – he knew that Amy and Sam had never slept properly, he knew that Sam still woke in the night, screaming Lizzie's name to the ceiling. Husbands, sons, and fathers were lying cold in their graves, while their families struggled to survive. Amy wrestled with her guilt, her deep longing for her homeland, and it tortured Legolas to see the land he loved – and the woman he loved – still hurt. _This is true pain_, he told himself as he looked out the window. _To be in love with an elleth who cannot love you back, whose home calls to her, even as the sea calls to the Elves. _

The doors banged open, and he heard youthful laughter – Amy's high-pitched giggles coupled with Sam's lower chuckles. He turned as they arrived, and offered them both a smile. Two years in Middle Earth suited both of them beautifully – Sam was lean, muscled and strong, tall and sinewy as a young cougar, combined with that ferocious glint in her eyes. As far as he knew, however, Sam had never touched a weapon since she had fought Lizzie – not even to train, not even to hunt. Amy's red hair was back at its proper length, just below her shoulders, and her pale green eyes were still rounded with worry, as always. Both of them were pale, despite being out in the sun – Amy's freckles had melted away, and he missed them. The immortality given to them by the Valar had taken away their cosmetic blemishes, but he still missed Amy's imperfections, her visual discrepancies.

Their personalities were mostly unchanged; Sam was still rough, wild, and crude, although time and war had tempered her anger and replaced it with a quieter grief. Amy still fretted and worried, this part of her intensified under the stress of Middle Earth, and she was still meek and domestic, but she was silent more often these days. Their night terrors were brutal, he knew; Amy's insomnia was a well-known fact among the women. She used to be titled the Night Fairy, for she would wake in the night and complete tasks other girls had left unfinished.

"So, when are we leaving?" Sam asked, tucking in the tunic Amy had given her. She shrugged the material over her shoulders, and that slow, Cheshire cat grin curved her mouth. "And how long do we have?"

Legolas spread the map over the table, outlining their route with a slim, elegant finger. "King Elessar has given us any amount of leave we wish," He answered. "And I believe the travelling time will take at least three months. I would like to spend some time in Imladris once more, and Gimli wishes to go to Fangorn, so I believe we should start out going northwest, along the White Mountain range. By heading that direction, we should pass through the Gap of Rohan with ease, past Edoras, and along the northern territory of Dunland."

"Will it be dangerous?" Amy asked, ever the sensible one.

"The Dunlanders are still slightly hostile," Legolas admitted. "But the Rohirric soldiers should keep us safe to a certain point. From then on, I am moderately confident that we should encounter no enemies, save wild animals."

Sam shrugged. "So we get to see Imladris. Awesome." The girls had heard tales of the legendary place, and Sam had a private goal to see all the citadels of Elves. "What about when we get to Lothlorien?"

"We can spend any amount of time that we wish there," Legolas said with a slight smile. "And I hear you are quite eager to see the Lady of Light again, are you not?"

_Not quite_, Sam thought privately, because when she thought of the beautiful woods of Lorien, her thoughts turned to a silver-haired Marchwarden. "Yeah. I kinda left there on a bad note," She admitted. "And I want to tell her about what happened, too – about Orome and those guys."

Legolas kept his face straight, but he couldn't resist a private, inward smile at the thought of the powerful Valar being referred to as 'those guys'. "Aye, I am sure she will take an interest in the tale." He answered.

"When can we go?" Amy asked, looking excited. Legolas captured the vivid image she presented to him – bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, pale green eyes wide, red hair coming loose from its braid, lips parted slightly. Horribly dowdy compared to other ellith, but the image of perfection to him.

"By the end of the week, our supplies should be at the level I want them to be," Legolas said with a slight smile. "And then we shall go."

"Awesome," Sam grinned, and tugged her fingers through her brown hair, unraveling the braid.

_I have this entire trip to change her mind_, Legolas thought as he looked at Amy. _I have this entire trip to convince her to love Middle Earth. I will make her see the beauty in this land. And I _will_, by Eru, make her love me._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Chapter one! Sorry it's so short. But please review and tell me what you think! This will be a slow-moving story, with plenty of stories and flashbacks and fluffy moments. The first half will be mostly Amy/Legolas, and the second half will be Haldir/Sam moments. xD **

**Don't forget to vote for the cutest couple! Poll is in my profile! :) You can select two choices. **


	2. Chapter 2: Of Spats and Assumptions

She watched the young elleth, the silly little war hero she was. Sam, her name was, apparently – Samantha Browning. The infamous girl who had charged recklessly into battle, fought her own best friend, and been possessed by Orome himself. And had done it all as a _woman_, no less, which won her nearly instantaneous disdain among women and bewilderment among men. No other woman had been helping build the walls of Minas Tirith; it was hard, brutal work which only men could do properly. The fair-haired elf watched Sam curled her lip just slightly. A celebrity – that's what Sam was. Brought from another world by the Valar, was the rumor, but the elleth knew that couldn't be true. The Valar wouldn't bring such silly, ridiculous women to Middle Earth, when they served no purpose. The blonde-haired elleth flexed her shoulders subtly and approached the girl, watching the beautiful horse Sam was crooning to. The horse was a fine specimen, powerfully built and gilded with silver scars running along its roughly-hewn, muscular frame. He had a wild, skittish look to him – no doubt those of similar feelings flocked together. There was a special bond between war horses and their masters, at least, that's what the fair-haired elleth privately believed. And she was proven right when Sam went nose to nose with the agitated beast and soothed it, closing her eyes and letting warm whuffs of air tickle her fingers as she stroked the horse's long, elegant nose.

"That's a fine horse."

Sam jumped, spinning around, eyes narrowing instantly as she looked at the figure before her. Just as suddenly, Sam felt a kick to her gut, savage and horrible, when she saw the thick fan of blonde hair plaited in back, and a pair of cobalt blue eyes looking evenly at her. The new elf was inhumanely beautiful, with full lips and high cheekbones, with a very aura which glowed, and a pair of alert blue eyes sized up Sam with something akin to disdain. Still, the resemblance to Lizzie was frightening – that same provocative stance, thick lashes, narrow waist and full hips. After her heart calmed, Sam could see the differences, and they were glaringly obvious; the elleth in front of her didn't have the bubbly, shallow personality seeping from her gestures, soaking into her words. Instead, there was a tough, determined, and callously bitter shell which clamped down over the young elf like a visor. Sam dug her nails into a slat in the wooden stall where Alandur was kept. "Thanks," Sam answered, burying her surprise beneath a thick layer of cockiness, as usual. "Alandur's my baby. He's coming up on four, so he's just getting the last of his fire out of him before he mellows out. At least, that's what Aragorn says."

A pale eyebrow hitched up, and those deep blue eyes grew distinctly colder. "You use King Elessar's name quite freely." She said, her voice quiet and low. Sam heard that there were no inflections in her voice, no dipping in vowels or changing of emotion. Just a smooth, flat sound which twisted calmly into words.

Sam shrugged, wiping her hands on her dirty leggings. "We traveled together," Sam said shortly. "He trained me a little. I fought next to him. I was at his wedding. He's my friend."

"Ah, yes," The elleth said coolly, with the barest minimum of sarcasm. Somehow, that tiny amount of sarcasm from the fair-headed elf could convey worlds of disdain. "Samantha Browning, champion of Rohan, guardian of Osgiliath, tamer of horses, personal friend of King Elessar. Is there anything you cannot do, Samantha Browning?"

Anger smacked Sam in the heart. "Look, Barbie Doll, I'm not going to explain myself to you. I did what I had to do. It wasn't a choice to find Aragorn, okay? And he didn't just _let _me be his friend. We were bonded by trauma, you know? I've been through a _hell_ of a lot, and I don't' need your _approval_ for what I've done. Everyone else seems pretty okay with me saving people's lives." Sam spat.

The display of anger didn't raise a quiver of an eyebrow from the blonde elleth. "Temper, Samantha Browning," The blonde elleth said softly, those blue eyes condescending. "Such a display of emotions is unwarranted. We are all 'bonded by trauma' as you so precisely put it. Do not attempt to think you are the only one who has suffered." The blonde elleth took a challenging step forward, still no emotion on her face, but her blue eyes were a riotous display of smirking. "I have seen you, Samantha Browning, cavorting with the men and showing off your masculinity. You shame the gift the Valar has given you."

Coolly, the blonde elf turned her back and left, leaving Sam with a seething, tearing, trembling pulse of rage hamming in her head. When Sam was sure the elf had gone, she sent her fist through the wooden slat of the stall, startling Alandur.

"I didn't ask for this!" Sam shouted at the door, tears stinging her eyes. She cursed herself for being provoked so _easily_ – but she couldn't help it. "I didn't ask to be an elf! I didn't have a choice!"

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><p><p>

"Are you lost?"

The redheaded elleth certainly looked lost, she thought wryly to herself. Honestly – two years of living in a city and she still couldn't find her way to the Main Gates? The redheaded elleth was nearly as famous as her friend, perhaps even more so, due to the attentions of a certain attractive woodelf. And yet she didn't have the swagger, the confidence, or the bravado of her friend Sam. No, there was a worrisome, fretting manner about her which irritated as much as it endeared. A pair of pale green eyes, rather pretty but far too anxious, widened gratefully as she smiled at the blonde elleth. Just as her friend Sam had done, she faltered a little, looking panicked, when she caught the flash of blonde hair and big blue eyes. After a brief moment, Amy – or whatever her name was – forced another smile on her face. "Yes, actually," She said, running her hands through her hair. She had shouldered a uncomfortably heavy looking satchel on her back, and was wearing loose, comfortable traveling clothes. "I'm looking for the Main Gates, I'm wicked late. My friends are waiting for me – I'm sorry, my name is Amy, Amy Ricker, what's your name?" She said, extending a hand.

"Eleniel," The blonde elf said, shaking Amy's hand with some reluctance and confusion. _They are both so masculine_, Eleniel thought to herself with some bewilderment. "I have heard much about you, Amy Ricker – Come, I shall escort you to the Main Gates."

"Thanks," Amy panted, lugging her bag behind her and following Eleniel. "So, why are you here in Minas Tirith? Did you fight in the War?"

"We all fought in the War," Eleniel rapped back, sharply. "Some in non-combative ways. No, I did not wield a spear, nor lift a bow, but I fought just a bravely as the dead warriors who lay cold in their graves."

"Of course," Amy stuttered, heat rushing to her cheeks. "I only meant, uh, you know. I didn't fight much either, just a little bit." A stricken expression showed through her glassy façade for a moment, and then she pasted on a faint smile. "Sorry." She offered. Eleniel jerked her chin dismissively, but her eyes softened just slightly.

"Do not blame your ignorance," Eleniel told her. "There is always much to be learned. My brother tells me, 'Eleniel, if we knew everything, what need would we have of the Valar?'. For he is right – we are here to journey through our predestined pathways through the stars, learning as much as we can. For knowledge is the true journey."

"Say that again," Amy said, a hesitant smile on her face. "That bit about the predestination."

"We are here to journey through our predestined pathways through the stars, learning as much as we can," Eleniel repeated, raising a shadow of a brow. "What do you see, Amy Ricker?"

"Nothing," Amy smiled down at herself. "Its just that destiny keeps coming up and biting me in the butt."

Eleniel couldn't help herself – a silvery laugh spilled from her lips, and then she cut herself off abruptly. "Say that again," She asked, nearly mocking but her eyes were too bright.

"Destiny keeps coming up to bite me in the butt," Amy said, and smiled. "It does! I mean, you try and try to avoid it and then it's like it turns around and _bam!_ knocks you flat on your back and drags you in the opposite direction."

Eleniel bit back her laugh savagely, keeping her expression determinedly neutral. Eru, she preferred the redhead's complacency to the brunette's temper! "Destiny will never reveal itself," Eleniel said smoothly. "It lurks like a prowler in the shade, changing your course when you least expect it. It is both elusive and direct, a contradiction in terms."

"You talk so beautifully," Amy said wistfully. "You and Legolas. Its like all Elves are connected to something ..." Amy waved her air indistinctly, "...Bigger. And prettier. And can I just say you look _just_ like one of my friends?"

"Oh?" Eleniel said, offhandedly. "And who would that be? Surely not your brunette companion."

"No," Amy said, and was suddenly very quiet. "No, you look just like a friend I lost. Lizzie. Well, not _exactly_ like, but she had blonde hair and blue eyes too. And she was beautiful."

"Your friend, did she perish in the War?" Eleniel asked, suddenly compassionate. Amy's pale green eyes were lost and far away.

"No. No, Lizzie died fighting a battle of her own."

* * *

><p>"Oh, <em>hell<em> no."

Sam was standing there, hands on her hips, Alandur making impatient circles with his nose, the rest of the party ready to go. Because the snotty blonde elf who had yelled at her earlier was coming down the road with Amy in tow, the two of them talking quietly together. There were three other ellons there, three insanely handsome, tall, dark-haired Elves who all seemed too gorgeous for words, and they all gave the snotty blonde elf a quick greeting in Elvish. Sam crossed her arms tightly as Amy drew level with them. "Sam, this is Eleniel," Amy began. "Eleniel, this is Sam, my best friend."

Cobalt blue met honey-brown, and there was a fiery lash of glares against each other.

"We've met." Sam snarled.

_Oh, this is going to be just _wonderful_,_ Legolas thought bitterly to himself. _Nothing will be peaceful with Samantha arguing with Lady Eleniel, and I predict it will not end well_.

Like most Elves, Legolas was spot-on with his assumption.

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><p><strong>AN: Another short chapter. Bigger family issues. Please vote for the cutest couple in my profile poll.**


	3. Chapter 3: Of Stars and Spooning Badgers

There was something truly magical about a velvety summer sky sprinkled with twinkling stars. Amy discovered this in the middle of the night, and not for the first time – in the city, with her friends, slumber parties and backyard camping trips had all been guarded silently by starry skies. But the constellations and arrangements of the diamond-like orbs were different, sketching different shapes and stories into the heavens, and Amy nearly missed the polluted smog and dim stars of the city. Nearly, but not quite. Nothing could compare to this, nothing could compare to this beauty, this raw, powerful gorgeousness which roamed untethered among her new world.

The rest of the party was sleeping, and she could hear the deep, rich rumbles of Gimli's snores, and the softer lullaby of Elven breathing as the three ellyn and two ellith slept beneath Elbereth's fantastic handiwork. Legolas had slipped off to clear his head, no doubt looking at the stars, as she was. A painful lump rose in her throat and she quickly turned over any thoughts of of handsome Elvish companion, trying to focus instead her other friends. Sam and Eleniel had exchanged only one or two barbed insults, both of them dripping in sarcasm and icy disdain. It amused Gimli to no end, for he seemed to take some sort of strange delight in seeing Sam bicker with other people, but the ellyn traveling with them seemed slightly offended and refused to speak to Sam all day. Their odd little group had three new ellyn journeying to Rohan, Imladris, and Lothlorien with them – two fair-headed young ones, and a slightly older Elf with dark brown hair. Like most Elves, they were all innately handsome, with lithe, slender bodies which were oddly entertaining to watch, their deft movements and darting eyes eerie and beautiful.

She wasn't interested in them, and this surprised her – the old Amy would have been crushing like mad and blushing insanely in their presence, but somehow it seemed childish now. Amy was tired, just _so tired_, and there were gray moments where she wanted to sleep and never wake up. Drifting in darkness seemed preferable to trying to adapt to this new, primitive, hard world, trying to cope with new places and new people. The grayness started to settle over her vision, and she might have retired to her bedroll to think of Lizzie and wait until morning, except her fine Elvish ears detected a rustle of grass. Instantly, she was on the alert, trying to discern what was stalking her. But a split second later, she caught a whiff of pine needles and old forest, and Legolas was crouching next to her. "You keep a late hour, my lady," He murmured quietly by her ear, so as not to wake the others. "I find Elbereth's craftsmanship beautiful as well, but I fear you shall be weary of the trail on the morrow if you do not retire."

"I thought we were past the 'my lady' stuff," Amy answered quietly back. "And who's Elbereth?"

It was times like this where Legolas partly understood Amy's reluctance and hesitancy to bond with him. She knew so little of this world! Her knowledge was but a babe's, still innocent and trusting to whoever fed her lies and deceit. Still, the war had calloused her, toughed the gentle edges he had found so endearing, and he occasionally wondered if the compassionate little wilwarin he had fallen in love with was still there. He took a seat next to her, turning slightly to face her properly, and offered a half-smile. In the starlight, her red hair was lit with a silvery glow, and her green eyes seemed large and akin to a young fawn as she looked up at him. He lay on his back, patting the grass next to him to entice her to follow his lead. She lay next to him, carefully ensuring a few inches of grass lay between them, and Legolas noticed this with a keen eye. "Elbereth is the wife of Manwe, and she is the one who crafted the stars. It is said that there was no moon, nor sun, when the Elves were first shaped into being, and when they awoke, the whole world was lit with the light of the stars."

"That must have been beautiful," Amy whispered.

"Aye, it must have been," Legolas agreed softly. "Her husband, Manwe, is lord of the skies and the clouds – the winds are his servants, the breezes his chattels. Nearly everything obeys his command, for he has the highest authority in the Undying Lands. Together, they make a beautiful pair – him, in his wise nobility and kingly glory, and her, in her gentle gracefulness and icy beauty."

She closed the gap between them, snuggling close to him, fitting their curves together like pieces to a puzzle. "Tell me more about the Valar," She begged in a whisper. "Please. Tell me more about the stars, too."

And so he wove stories. He told her of Melkor's deceit, of Feanor's passion and terrible oath, of Yavanna's desperate plea for the trees and the very soul of Middle Earth. He told as much as he could remember, as much as had been told, and Amy never noticed when he slipped unconsciously into Elvish, reciting passages and poems, explaining Este's healing powers, Namo's dispassion and iron justice, of Nienna's never-ceasing grief and sorrow. Some of the tales he told were dredged up from long, nearly forgotten memories, of stories when he was but a child. And finally, Amy slept, her head on Legolas's shoulder, breathing in his words and feeling safe beneath Elbereth's stars and in Legolas's arms.

* * *

><p>"Oh, ain't this just like old times," Sam groaned when she cracked her back the next morning. "Sleeping on rocks, waking up to badgers spooning me, how familiar."<p>

"He wasn't _spooning_ you," Amy pointed out as she stirred a pan full of sizzling sausages. She had never seen a society eat so much meat in all her life. Luckily, the Elves preferred corn-based bread and the like, but Gimli staunchly insisted that this was a journey of leisure, and he was going to eat his meat in the morning, by Thorin's gates. "He was just curious."

"We should have eaten him," Sam grumbled. "Sausage and badger pudding."

"You cannot make pudding from the hide of a badger," Eleniel reminded Sam lowly as she sat very still on the grass. The elleth was sitting cross legged, posture prim and impeccable, and looking casually over Sam with something like boredom. "And the creature did not do anything against its instinct, and I will not stand for you hunting it merely for sport."

"Animals are just too cute, huh?" Sam said sarcastically.

"On the contrary," Eleniel said icily. "I wish to lessen the deaths I am responsible for."

There was a long, awkward silence while the ellyn glared at Sam and Gimli seemed impervious to awkwardness. Amy coughed, and spilled the fresh sausage links onto Gimli's tin plate, rattling the fork around the pan noisily. "Well, now that we've all had some breakfast," She said, trying to paper over the awkwardness, "We should probably leave when Gimli finishes, yeah?"

"It's impossible to leave _before_ Gimli finishes," Legolas said with a slight smile, "Seeing as it would be cruel to make him ride and eat at the same time. Not to mention he can not get on his horse without assistance."

A rousing laugh from Sam and Amy covered Gimli's gruff, good-natured reply, and the other Elves looked on with mild amusement. The little party began to settle into a routine.

None of them noticed the delicate gray fox watching them closely, large golden eyes lazy and curious.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, do any of you guys play Club Penguin? My middle child is in desperate throes to make a penguin and become a member, but I'm reluctant. Is it safe? Is it worth it to buy membership? It seems sort of expensive. Do tell, please. **


	4. Chapter 4: Of Sparkly Animals and Bites

"I haven't touched a weapon in two years," Sam muttered under her breath, stringing the bow Legolas had given her. The bow was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, really – a smooth, dark arc of polished wood and strung with a braided, flaxen strand. It was tense, sleek, and vaguely reminded Sam of a still horse. They had been travelling for nearly two weeks, and Legolas had decided to stop for a day or two and fill up their supplies again. The place where he had chosen to make camp was full of dark, twisted beauty; sheer black cliffs jutted aggressively towards the sky, and the breeze which whistled through the small canyon was slightly damp and deliciously fresh. A deep, clear pool was fed by a small stream, and Amy was dabbling her feet in the water, talking quietly to Gimli. No doubt they were still discussing Dwarven politics, a subject which bored Sam to tears by Amy found bizarrely fascinating. The ellyn were grouped together, chatting about something in Elvish, and Eleniel was tending to the horses, stroking them and murmuring soft endearments. Sam gritted her teeth and shouldered her bow, adjusting her quiver marginally as she walked determinedly up to blonde Elf. Legolas had chosen the pair of them to hunt, since they were going to be there for a day or two – his thinking had been the hunting would stop the frizzing tension which always snarled between them.

"You ready?" Sam asked, jerking her chin towards Eleniel. The blonde elf arched one eyebrow in a look of supreme disdain, and strung her bow with one quick, flexing movement.

"Quite," Eleniel responded. "Come, we shall have to travel to the top of the cliffs to see any real game." Eleniel said, and set off at a light, silent run. Sam followed her, not nearly as silent but just as fast, and she locked her jaw as the steep incline began. Elvish strength and speed she had, but her endurance was still fickle, and she was determined not to let it show in front of Eleniel. The blonde Elf was either snobbishly petty, or she truly thought that Sam could run as fast as a panther. Sam strongly suspected the former, and would have voiced it, save that her breath was becoming harder and harder to catch. Soon after, the canyon dissolved once more into the rolling hillocks of grass which stretched for miles, and Eleniel bounded forward, sharp blue eyes scanning the horizons. The grass was slippery and hard to grab onto, but Sam managed to climb atop the hill with minimal facial expression, and tried to bite back the fast panting from her mouth.

"What's your problem?" Sam asked, as soon as there was a square centimeter of air in her lungs. "For crying out loud, I'm not a cheetah."

"Ai!" Eleniel hissed, squeezing Sam's upper arm hard. "Be still! Look."

Sam followed the line of Eleniel's finger and saw the herd of grazing deer, blending into the dun grass nearly perfectly. One or two had swiveled their heads towards the two ellith, but after a moment of being perfectly still, the deer resumed their feed. Sam reached back slowly for an arrow, the feathered shaft gliding through her fingers, and aimed it at the largest buck she could see. The strain of holding the arrow in place was less than she thought it would be, but the bow still felt awkward and stiff in her hands. Two years of refusing to touch a weapon hadn't unlearned her completely, but it was enough to make her fairly rusty. She hadn't been all that wonderful to begin with, anyway – Sam fought of of desperation and determination, not skill or practice.

Just before she let the arrow fly, her bright brown eyes caught sight of a still, somber gray fox sitting about a dozen paces away. In the blink of an eye, she changed direction and sent the arrow thudding into the pelt of the gray fox. There was a yelping bark, and the fox dropped to the ground, writhing in pain from the arrow in its haunch. The sudden movement startled the deer, and they dodged off into the horizon, threading through the grass and flicking snowy white tails in retreat. Eleniel swore spectacularly in Elvish, and then said, "Dôl lost lîn!" She snarled. "Have you gone mad?"

Sam didn't answer, but she was on her knees by the fox in a split second. The poor animal was bleating weakly, back legs thrashing, and the golden eyes were wide and frantic. Sam gripped it by one ear, and spat bitterly at it, "Listen to me. Go on and tell your master to go screw himself. I don't need him, or her, or whatever. You got me?" Her fingers yanked the arrow from the fox's back leg, and the fox righted itself, hitching its back leg to its chest. Eleniel barked another Elvish curse, and the fox sprang back, surprisingly agile for a wounded animal, and sank its sharp white teeth into Sam's wrist. She roared in pain, whipping her arm back, but the fox had already released her and was trotting off, limping badly.

"By all that is sacred, what has gotten into your head?" Eleniel growled, straining her eyes to see the fox. It had vanished without a trace. Turning her attention to Sam, she saw a row of dark teeth marks, blood welling up beneath the unbroken skin. The dark haired Elf was going through an entire alphabet of very creative curse words, and hugging her sore wrist to her chest.

"Last time," Sam panted between gritted teeth, "I saw a funny looking animal, I ended up killing my best friend. I'm not taking any chances."

Eleniel rocked back on her heels for a moment, dark surprise flaring in her blue eyes. "You ... killed your friend?" She asked, her voice tight and far away.

"Yeah," Sam whispered, and turned her face away bitterly, trying to blink back the tears. "Yeah, I did. And I'm not going to let another sparkly animal take my last friend away from me."

There was a long silence. Eleniel turned her face towards the horizon.

"We are both responsible for the death of a friend, then," She said quietly. "Come, I have something which might help your wrist."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry, my muse is just totally gone. Plus, I really don't have any time to write, but I had to scribble out something before life really began to mess me up. I don't expect many reviews, but it would be nice if you did! xD **


	5. Chapter 5: Of Promises and Childishness

The pond was a deep, dark, ominous circle framed by sloping white boulders and a few twisted gray trees. There was barely a ripple, except at the small crack in the sheer mountains which fed the pond by a small trickle of water, and it was at this small fissure where she crouched. The water itself looked freezing, but the breeze was warm and she decided it would be worth the risk. Carefully stepping onto the gritty, jagged bottom, she entered the cold pond, the water sending prickling goose bumps up her legs and arms. She shivered, tucking a lock of red hair out of her eyes. Everyone else was waiting for Sam and Eleniel to come back with some fresh meat, and in the meantime, Gimli was entertaining them with a few Dwarven poems. Amy had wandered away, partly out of loneliness, and partly out of boredom. The farther the wandered, the less she saw; everything was wasted and bland, like a sketch book without borders. The plains around them were a soulless, empty gray, with only hints of lavender sketching against the tall grasses. Even two years after the terrible war, the world was just beginning to regain its color. Her world. The world. Legolas's world. Amy still didn't know what to call it. She waded deeper into the water, blinking back a sting of tears which bit at her eyes. It was ice cold, but the physical pain of the frigid water momentarily distracted her and took her breath away in a gasp. She set her teeth and dove in.

It was unbelievably cold – Amy half wondered why it hadn't just stayed frozen on some glacier somewhere. The artic water drove all the air from her lungs, but she forced her eyes open to catch a glimpse of the world around her. The place had a warped, surreal feeling to it, as though someone had raked the reality out of it; the edges of her vision trembled as she kicked towards the surface. Jagged rocks bruised her feet as she stood, and she flung her curtain of heavy red hair behind her, taking a few gulps of air, which felt positively baking after the sheer iciness of the water. Amy shivered, her teeth rattling together, but she felt amazingly good – a snake shedding its skin – and dove back in again, determined to see more of the underwater world. More accustomed to the water, she could see more; gauzy gray shapes melted together to form solid rocks, and there was a moldering, rotting wet tree trunk some ways away. Branches scratched at her legs, and she tried to scream in surprise, only to take in a lungful of water. She broke the surface yelping in panic, and stumbled towards the shore. One of the elves – either Legolas or one of the younger ones, she couldn't tell – looked towards her, but from this distance she couldn't see their expression.

She shook herself, grabbed a handful of her tunic and wrung it out, then tried to detangle her hair with her fingers. The sun which had seemed weak and distant moments ago, was powerfully hot and covered her in a glaze of warmth. After her cold dunk in the pond, she wanted all of the heat she could get. Amy shuddered, her teeth chattering uncontrollably, and scampered back over to the circle of friends she had left behind. Legolas looked up as she approached, along with the older, dark haired elf who had been slightly friendlier to the girls. Legolas's cerulean eyes lit up – _So cheesy_, Amy thought to herself, _but there's really no other way to describe it_. – as he saw Amy approach. He patted the grass next to him, and she circled the group until she reached him. There was a respectable stretch of grass between them when she sat, but she didn't care – last night had been a mistake, she told herself. She had no business snuggling up to Legolas like that when she wasn't even sure she liked him. Well, she liked him, she told herself, but did she ...? She couldn't even think the words.

"We breached the walls and the gloom we fought, In the atrium discovered what we sought. The book was found and names were spoken, The darkness cast out and curses broken.

The wounds may heal, but the scars remain - Where a bridge shall fall, you must build it again. And now when the anvil rings out loud, The hammer strikes - and makes us proud."

Gimli finished his poem with a gleam in his eye, and he sat back, puffing on his pipe. "Such a beautiful place," He said wistfully beneath his breath.

"I'm sure it is, my friend," Legolas said comfortingly. "And one day, a new generation shall rebuild it to its former glory." He sat back, squinting towards the horizon. "I wonder where Lady Eleniel has gone?" He queried aloud. "She has been gone for some time; I do hope she and Samantha have not gotten into a dispute."

"Knowing Lady Samantha, I would fret more if they had not gotten into a dispute," The dark-haired elf said quietly, smiling slightly. "But do not fear, Legolas – they will be back soon, I can feel it."

Amy bit her bottom lip in anxiety, surveying the area around her. "You're probably right," She admitted. "I just hope..." She trailed off, but then forced a smile on her face. "That was a lovely poem, Gimli. Really cool." She broke off – it had reminded her of Moria, to tell the truth. That dark, ghoulish place full of twisted stalactites and the gaping maws of black tunnels stretching far away, the impenetrable labyrinth which had nearly taken all of their lives. She dropped her gaze, but tried not to let the emotion show on her face. That horrible nightmarish place, so far underground, where the light was scarce and the dangers loomed, grinning and cackling, in the shadows.

There was a short, awkward silence, and then one of the younger Elves spoke up. "I believe Lady Eleniel is approaching," He said, and got to his feet. Amy whipped around right away, eager to see her friend. The group saw a most curious sight.

Eleniel and Sam were running back, Sam stumbling slightly, the blonde bracing her from one side. Sam looked fiercely annoyed, and the brunette's hair was in thick, shaggy waves around her face. "_Sam_!" Amy cried, and darted to her friend's side. There was a crude bandage around Sam's forearm, but it was soaked with blood.

"She needs help," Eleniel said, brushing the terrified Amy away with a cold glare. "Calanon, Ainion, get some fresh bandages from my satchel," She ordered with queenly grace. Her face was an unconcerned mask, but her jaw was locked tightly. The two blonde Elves leapt to her aide, opening her satchel and getting several medical supplies from the depths.

"What happened?" Amy demanded, her face crumpled in concern.

"Our friend thought it wise to shoot an arrow into a suspicious looking animal whom she claimed was here to claim the life of her last friend," Eleniel said dryly. "Samantha, be still," She snapped, and peeled off the bloodstained bandage. Sam hissed a breath between her teeth, and made it sound both like a cry of pain and a vicious curse. She glared at Amy, and rolled her eyes.

"It was a fox," Sam supplied between gritted teeth. "Sparkly, too, the little motherf-"

"Sam!" Amy cut her off hastily, with a glance at the Elves. "Do you think it was another messenger?" She added in a low voice.

"Yes," Sam snarled, and jerked away from Eleniel. "Watch it!"  
>She barked at the Elf, and the blonde elleth grunted in a very unladylike fashion. "It was a messenger, from who I don't know," Sam spat at Amy. "But I'm not standing around and accepting any more of their <em>gifts<em>, not while I'm still breathing."

"But, Sam..." Amy said, but one of the blonde elves, Calanon, broke her off.

"You do understand you have committed a great folly!" Calanon snapped. "You have angered the Valar! Eru only knows what they will do now!"

"Shut up," Sam growled. "I'm not going to take any chances. If I see it again, I _will_ kill it."

"You shot a fox with an arrow and it didn't die?" Amy asked incredulously.

"My point exactly," Sam said, and scraped her molars together when Eleniel tightened the bandage. "Not to mention the thing sparkled like Edward Cullen with fur."

"Sam, can we have a minute alone?" Amy said pointedly, and Eleniel made a disparaging noise in the back of her throat.

"She should rest," Eleniel said. "This wound is strange – the skin did not break until I applied some ointment, and then she began to bleed profusely. She should lie still until I can examine the wound properly."

"You can talk later, Amy," Legolas said soothingly. "Sam must rest."

Amy didn't want to voice her wish – that sparkling fox might have been there to bring them home. The Valar might have changed their mind. She looked nervously at Sam and Legolas – could they see what she was thinking on her face? Legolas would be heartbroken, and Sam didn't want to leave. What did Sam want, Amy wondered. Did she want to go home as desperately as herself? Or did she feel attached to Middle Earth, to Haldir? Sam glanced up at Eleniel. "I'm not a baby," She snapped. "I can walk, okay?"

"Lie. Down. Now." Eleniel said evenly, each word tight and forced. The steel blue eyes, sharp as razors, glared at Sam. The two women sized each other up – Amy could practically see their hackles rising – and Eleniel won the stare down. Sam looked away first.

"Fine. But just because I'm too tired to argue," Sam conceded reluctantly. "Not because you told me."

_Childish_, Eleniel thought to herself with a sigh. _So unutterably childish._

* * *

><p>"Amy, we should eat."<p>

It was Legolas, of course – he always had a habit of sneaking up on her when she was lost in thought. The purple clouds were blushed with a skimming of yellow, the dying rays of the setting sun bathing the plains, painting the gray canvas with delicate light. She was twisting together a few strands of heather, braiding them into a tight circlet, her fingers numb from the prickly activity. He approached her, and then sat down next to her. "Gimli is concerned," He continued. "You didn't eat afternoon meal with us, and you didn't eat the food Eleniel prepared. Is something troubling you?"

"You could say that," Amy said, focusing on her circlet in the fading light. Her voice was eerily steady, dry and firm. "I mean, it's only as if I've been deposited in a new world, dragged into this 'save-the-world-or-bust- quest, come out of it alive but missing her friends, and mentally scarred for the rest of her life. Not to mention her best friend died because your _other _best friend killed her, and that the only surviving friend you have is turned into some sort of Arnold Schwarzenegger-type macho-man, and she's madly in love with some Marchwarden who's just as insane as she is."

"Amy..." Legolas said softly. "Amy, I need to speak with you."

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry," She said, her voice muffled. "I'm just tired. And cranky."

"Amy, I need to make a proposition," Legolas said, and he sounded as though he had rehearsed this many times. "Please, I just need a part of your heart to listen."

"This sounds ... bad," Amy said, and looked at him worriedly. "Did I do something?"

_Yes,_ Legolas thought bitterly to himself. She had bewitched him without her knowledge, she broke his heart every time she smiled. In a time of war, she had been a fragile, delicate white blossom amid the carnage, a white rose with no thorns to protect herself. He had never become this infatuated with an elleth before, and he had accustomed himself to resisting their flirtatious smiles and big doe eyes. But Amy ... Amy had snared him so thoroughly, so innocently, with her cloud of frizzy red hair and those worried green eyes, her slender figure and continual concern. He massaged his temples slowly. "Amy, you've done nothing wrong," He assured her, and a nervous, rueful laugh was shaken from him. "You've done everything ... perfectly. Which is why I need to speak with you."

"Legolas, I –"

"Iluvitar, Amy, I have this whole speech memorized, and if you interrupt me again, I will forget the entire thing!" Legolas said, frustrated.

Amy giggled, and put a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. Go on."

He took a deep breath, and looked pointedly at the beautiful sunset. "I have been giving this matter some thought for quite a while," He confessed, "And I understand you've still trying to adapt to our world, our customs... I know it must be difficult. But I would like to renew the question I asked you two years ago."

Amy's heart stopped beating for a moment, and she looked hurriedly around her, blushing, as though someone was listening. "What do you mean?" She asked, although she had an idea.

Legolas looked at her squarely in the eyes. His voice wavered slightly, and she smiled awkwardly at the serious look in his dark blue orbs. He had such a serious, worried look on his face. "I asked you to marry me two years ago," He said, and his voice dropped lower, "And I understand you will not give me an answer at this moment. But I would like permission to ... " He cleared his throat. "...To court you."

"To what?" Amy sputtered, a little louder than she intended.

"Under normal circumstances, I would ask your father," He said hastily, "But since there is no one to ask, I will ask you for your permission. I assure you, my intentions are completely honorable, but ..." He paused again to swallow – "I intend to marry you, Amy, and I _will_ show you how beautiful Middle Earth can be." There was an eager, bright look in his face, underlined with nerves and uncertainty.

"Wait, wait, wait, _wait_," Amy said, her hands shaking. "You're asking me ... for permission to _court_ me? Is that like dating?"

He frowned. "From my limited knowledge of your lexicon, then yes, it is like dating."

Amy looked at the honest look in his eyes, and then shook her head, turning back towards the brilliant sunset. A shard of lemon sunlight was being wrapped slowly in orange and red tinted clouds, melting softly into the horizon. It was achingly similar to the sunsets she had witnessed back home, but at the same time, bewilderingly different. The craggy black mountains clawed raggedly at the skies, and it was too raw, majestic and powerful to be on earth. The air was too clean, the colors too vivid. She dropped her head, a sigh expelling from between her teeth. "I don't know, Legolas," She said softly. "I'm just ... I don't know. Let's see how this trip goes, okay?"

"Amy, I assure you, I am very well off," Legolas said, and there was something desperate about his words. "I am a Prince, after all – Mirkwood is a beautiful place to live, and I shall treat you with the utmost respect, Amy, I promise you –"

"Shh," Amy said, and touched his lips with her finger. "Legolas, it isn't you," She whispered. "It's not, I promise. It's me. I can't – I can't wrap my head around this place."

"Then promise me," Legolas asked earnestly, "Promise me you won't listen to another ellon. Please, consider me above your other suitors – no matter how many times they declare their love, know that mine is a hundredfold – a _thousand fold_ – more than theirs. Please, Amy. Promise me this."

She couldn't say no when he looked at her like that.

"Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Honeeeyyyy, I'm hoommmeeee!**

**Sorry, Jack Nicholson moment. **

**Anyway, I'm sorry for the very long delay – some very personal matters which some of you may know about. I don't feel like going into it now, but suffice to say I was too sick to write and my family was too harried to post anything. At any rate, I hope you guys like this; I realize it's really subpar, but its something, right? :D I'm sorry about the quality, really, but at least its something for the weekend. **


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